


Conversation

by azureavian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureavian/pseuds/azureavian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war was over. Everyone is damaged. That doesn't mean you stop living.</p>
<p>This is my first fan-fic, be kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversation

They sat and took comfort in languid conversation. This calm and acceptance between them was hard won, but she liked to think they were friends now, seven years after school and war caused upheaval in their lives. She liked that they were able to talk about anything and nothing and pick up a conversation that might have been started weeks before as if it were only a minute ago.

"And what did you do after the battle? Celebrated with your Mr. Weasley, no doubt."

"I mostly sat around wishing you were there."

"Me? Why ever for?"

"Because you may have been mean and perfectly awful to us, but you always protected us and you always knew what you were doing."

"Oh, child, if you only knew."

"Don't!"

"Don't what, Ms. Granger?" He asked softly, with a lift of his eyebrow.

She took a calming breath, "Don't call me child. I haven't been a child in a long time and..."

"And what, Ms. Granger?"

"I don't want you to look at me that way," She said quietly.

"What way?" He was honestly surprised.

"Like a child. You may have been our least favorite teacher when we were children, but honestly, you don't act that way anymore. I don't hate you and I don't view you in the same light anymore."

"And how do you view me, Ms Granger?"

She was quiet a long time and he didn't think she was going to answer him.

"You are a hero..."

"I am no hero," He said flatly.

"Fine, you are not a hero, but you have behaved in heroic fashions. You are intelligent and not a total berk to people who are willing to think before they speak."

"Thank heaven for good manners," his mouth twitched in amusement. "At least I don't bite off more heads than I can chew, is that it?"

Her mouth turned up in response and his heart ached at the simple beauty.

"Shall we say you are calmer, perhaps simply less stressed than you used to be?"

"There is admittedly less to stress me. I no longer wait for my last moment to be upon me. I am, more or less, free to go where I like. I could even take up an absurd hobby without fear that it would reflect poorly on my 'bad guy' status."

"And what absurd hobby were you thinking of taking up, Professor?"

"Oh, it was more of a case of the feeling that I _could_ than a particular hobby I had in mind. Perhaps table tennis?" He gave a sly smile and she laughed delightedly.

"Oh, Professor! You told a joke! Every time I think I have you figured out, you surprise me. I think that's what I love most about you," She stopped suddenly, covering her mouth in embarrassment and horror.

"Ms. Granger...Hermione," He paused, unsure of what to say, "I am an old man, more used to revels and prostitutes than the more gentle emotions."

"You aren't though!" She protested, "You aren't at all old! In terms of wizard years you aren't even middle aged."

"I am old in terms of what I've done, what I've seen and what I know."

"In that case, Professor, I am also impossibly old. You think I didn't fight in that war? You think I don't remember my friends dying, loved ones lost? You think I didn't feel the pain of curses cast on me? You would be quite wrong," for such strong words they were delivered softly.

He was impressed with the control of her emotions, though obviously still strongly felt. The driven student had grown into a passionate, driven woman, well in control of herself and she seemed sure of her desires.

"I mean only that I am scarred, inside as much as out, and I am quite set in my ways. You would do better with someone who could give you what you deserve in life."

"What about what you deserve, Professor? And what if I think I deserve someone wise and funny and wonderful, who happens to live in a dungeon and dress in black. Did you ever think that maybe someone could look past your appearance of darkness and want to tend to the spark inside you?" Her cheeks were rosy and her gaze was on the floor, but she spoke with determination that he should hear what she had to say.

"And what if don't think I deserve anything? What if keeping my life was more than I ever dared hope for? What if all I want is quiet?" He played the devil's advocate from habit more than wish. What he wished for, he did not dare before today to think might be a reality.

"Too much quiet stagnates an agile mind," she replied quite cheekily.

He sat quietly. He didn't think he deserved much, it's true, but oh, he wanted what she seemed to be offering. More, he wanted her to truly want it too, not just out of some misguided sense of justice on his part.

"And if..." damn the words that refused to fall from his mouth.

"You mean if I were to want to leave? I don't see that happening. I've been in..." she paused, unwilling to say the word again until she knew the outcome of this pleasantly tense conversation, "I've had feelings for you for a while now, probably since before I knew what I was feeling. It used to anger me so much when your actions would be discounted as merely what you should have done and your hurts as only what you deserved. I've always thought you rather got the dirty end of ... the stick, Sir."

"Ms. ... Hermione," She looked up in response to her given name. He was not given to casual use of names. "Whatever my services or treatment in the line of service to The Greater Good I received was no less than my due. Your feelings for me may...color your perceptions a bit, but it makes it no less true."

"Then what about now? You've paid, and more than paid. When it is enough? When do you get the good things that are owed to you? Just because I might be a little biased regarding you," this was met with a soft snort from his direction. "Just because I _might_ be, doesn't mean I'm wrong!"

"Calmly now. No one would dare tell you that you were wrong," _to your face_ he thought, "but if I accept your feelings for me you must be aware that others will think you addled." He was losing a fight he didn't want to win in the first place, but he dare not let her step forward without due warning. If it turned out her feelings were a fleeting thing he wanted to be sure she couldn't claim she wasn't warned.

She looked at him with firm faith and not a little hope, "Does that mean I haven't made a total fool of myself?"

"I would never claim that, young and foolish as you are," his sly smile made it a joke between friends, rather than the harsh comment it would have been a decade ago. "But if you knew the thoughts I've kept to myself, the words I've kept silent. I did not dare to hope that you felt the same as I have for years."

"Professor..." with a squeal that belied her claim of maturity, she launched herself around the table and into his arms. Their first kiss was soft and sweet but turned hot enough to melt the last of the ice around his heart. "Severus..." was a quiet moan on her lips.

Life was sweet, when you dared accept it.


End file.
